


The Persistence of Memory

by DogStar234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Bring Back Black, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Romance, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kittens, Legilimency, M/M, Memories, Mutual Pining, Older Harry, Post-Hogwarts, Second Chances, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2019-08-19 09:24:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16531832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DogStar234/pseuds/DogStar234
Summary: Sirius comes back out of the veil, but he's not the Sirius that Harry remembers.  But Junior Auror Potter plans to be there for Sirius in a way Sirius wanted to be for him. And that's all it is, at first.Harry is 21, Sirius is 18.





	1. Chapter 1

There was nothing special about the day that Sirius Black came back into his life.

It was a Wednesday—Harry always thought that not much of importance happened on most Wednesdays—but he got a terse memo from the Department of Mysteries requiring his ‘immediate presence’.

Harry sighed, making the quick journey from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement down to see the oddballs in Mysteries. He took his bag with him, sometimes he might need his cloak to hide from Croaker. The old man always wanted to test him, claiming to see death in his eyes. 

“What’s this about then?” Harry asked, holding up his note once he got to the receptionist.

“Oh, that’s from me, Harry,” Luna said, popping out from behind a corner. Her wand was tucked behind her ear and she was holding a folder with a JUNE 1996: TOP SECRET on it. The Department may be well...mysterious, but it wasn't much on subtlety, so Luna fit right it. 

“Hey, Luna. What’s this about? It’s not about the Nott case, is it?”

She shook her head, her blue eyes very big. “It’s about someone you love, Harry.”

The blood froze in his veins. He had just seen Ron and Hermione for lunch. Ginny was probably at practice with the Harpies…the rest of the Weasleys, he had no idea as to whether they were fine. Teddy was so small, it'd be so easy for someone to hurt him. 

Luna shook her head. “Everyone is fine, Harry. But I want you to be kind to him, it’s not his fault.”

He had so much time for Luna, but not with this riddle. “Am I usually not kind? I do try.” 

“I know you do Harry, it’s just he’ll need you more than you need him this time, at least to start with, so try and be patient with him” Luna said. 

Harry blinked at her. “To who, Luna?”

“Sirius Black,” she said, and grabbed his hand. 

Harry felt dizzy for a second with grief. He had felt like he was always an orphan, but those few years when he knew Sirius, knew that an adult cared about him, meant absolute everything to him. He was 21 now, and the six-year-on wound from seeing him die on felt fresh all over again. Watching Sirius go through the veil was one of the single worst things he could remember and Harry dug his fingernails into his palms to distract himself from the horrible pain of it.

“What happened, Luna?” 

Luna cast a quick _Muffliatio_ , and dragged him around the corner, out of the line of sight of anyone passing by. 

“There was a minor earthquake from an experiment…and the veil spat something out this morning after the aftershocks…well, someone, rather.”

Harry looked down at his watch. This morning?! It was nearly two PM!

“We had to make sure it was him, Harry.”

His anger deflated. “And it’s him? You’re sure?”

Luna nodded. “It’s him, Harry, but a bit younger than you may be expecting, and his memories don’t seem to have made their way out of the veil with him.”

A horrible, treacherous thought passed through Harry’s mind—maybe that was a good thing. 

“And you’re saying that Sirius doesn’t remember anything about well, anything?”

Luna tugged at her blonde hair. “He’s accepted his name being Sirius rather easily, and he ‘borrowed’ my wand to make the chair he’s sitting on more comfortable and did quite a stunning piece of transfiguration for a complete amnesiac.”

“So he’s faking?”

Luna shook her head, and rested her palm on his cheek. “No, Harry. I think the veil returned him to a time of his life where he was the happiest and his brain is doing a rather good job protecting him right now from the rather tragic way his short life turned out.”

What did that matter. His godfather was back. “Luna, I need to see him.”

“Of course you do, Harry, he’s in my office.”

That was less than a minute away. Harry’s heart started to beat too-fast as he followed Luna down the hall into her brightly-decorated hideaway of an office.

The door swung open, and he saw Sirius, leaning carelessly back in a chair the same way he had in Snape’s memory.

He was maybe a little younger than Harry, and so handsome, the dark shadows from Azkaban not clouding his face, his jet-black hair falling in soft waves around his face. 

His gray eyes though scanned Harry with little recognition, and it broke his heart.

“Hey there, Sirius,” Harry said, his voice a little unsteady. “It’s so good to see you again.”

Sirius stood up in a quick motion, knocking over the chair. “You know me? Will you take me out of here? No offense, I hate being cooped up, and I’ve been in this office for _hours_ ” he said, giving a little half-bow to Luna, who just smiled at him.

“Yeah, I know you, Sirius,” Harry said, swallowing down past the lump in his throat.

Sirius stared at him, cocking his head in a manner quite like Padfoot. “You do seem familiar, I’m sure I’ve seen your face. Are we…friends?”

Harry nodded.

“Brilliant,” Sirius said, sticking his hands in his pockets. Harry noticed the clothes fit him poorly, and shot a questioning look at Luna.

“Sirius Black may have come out of the veil as naked as the day he was born and we had to scrounge around for some spare clothes,” Luna explained.

Sirius, to Harry’s shock, actually blushed. He looked so young in that moment.

“How old are you, Padfoot?”

Sirius blinked at him. “Padfoot?”

Harry grimaced. “It’s a nickname, yours.”

“I’m not sure how you’d get that from my name,” Sirius grumbled. “I don’t know. Luna’s diagnostic spell said 18. How old are _you_?”

“I’m 21, and you can call me Harry,” he said, introducing himself to his godfather. Harry was older than Sirius was when he was _born_. The same age his father got to be. It was all starting to give him a headache.

“Well, Harry James Potter,” Luna full-named him. “I have a few theories I’d like to test about Padfoot, but why don’t you take him out the ministry for now before my colleagues get too excited and start examining him. I’ll handle the paperwork for his return.”

“Thanks, Luna,” Harry said, and he was grateful. He was sure Luna was sneaking Sirius to his custody because he was _Harry Potter_ , but today he was so grateful for his status. Being subjected to more nonsense from the blasted ministry was the last thing Sirius needed, their incompetence had cost him more than enough time.

Sirius started following Harry down the long hallway toward the atrium, but Harry couldn’t take him home. Not to Grimmauld Place, not yet. Sirius had been here when he died and Grimmauld Place for a terrible year beforehand, he wouldn’t do that to him quite yet. There was so much more for Sirius to see. 

“Are you hungry?” Harry asked.

Sirius shrugged, a careless, elegant gesture.

Harry wasn’t, but he had an idea. He scurried to tone of the back ministry exits, but no one was paying Sirius a second glance.

“You must be very popular,” Sirius muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“People stare at you, some more obviously than others, but people do,” Sirius observed.

"Huh. I didn’t notice,” Harry lied, and Sirius snorted.

“I may be an amnesiac, mate, but I’m not stupid.”

“You’re not, I’m sorry,” Harry said, feeling sheepish. “I can explain later—it’s a bit of a long story.”

“Shorten it for me,” Sirius said, eyes narrowing at him. Harry was oddly reminded of the way Andromeda in that moment, when she was at the end of her tether about something.

“I may have….taken care of the worst dark wizard of our time in a very public way.”

“Not just a pretty face then—guess I have good taste in friends.” Sirius remarked.

“Sometimes you do,” Harry muttered darkly, and chucked his ministry robe into his messenger bag, so he would blend in with the muggles out on the street. 

“Where are we going?” he asked, and Harry shrugged, as he started walking down Charing Cross Road toward Oxford Street.

Muggles were milling about, cars and black cabs and red buses going slowly down the road, following the stoplights. 

Harry cut down one of the gritty Soho Side streets, littered with trash and sex shops and neon lights, and wondered if Sirius had ever had McDonalds before. 

He turned to look at him, Sirius’s eyes were wide with wonder at the Muggle surroundings, even as mundane as they were. 

Grimmauld Place was only a few miles from here, but he doubted his parents let him roam around when he was younger. 

Sirius smiled at him, and his whole face changed, looking approachable and _handsome_ instead of like some cold Greek statue.

How did his Dad or Remus or gods, anyone, in the Order get any work done when Sirius was going around smiling at people like that, like they were so special?

“We’re here,” Harry said a few minutes later when he held the door open for Sirius at the Oxford Street McDonalds.

“It smells like grease,” Sirius observed.

“Yeah, isn’t it great?” Harry agreed, before sliding up to the counter and ordering Sirius a big mac meal, and a coke for himself. 

He got the tray, and found the two of them a table so Sirius could watch the people outside. 

Sirius put a fry in his mouth tentatively, and then a few more. “This is good!” he exclaimed through a mouthful of potato, and Harry laughed before thinking of Sirius surviving on rats so he could hear the latest about the Triwizard Tournament. Sirius was rich and smart, he should have left and moved permanently to another continent, off this island, but he was too loyal to abandon Harry like that.

“You’re off with the fairies,” Sirius said.

“Sorry, just remembered something,” Harry said.

“That makes one of us,” Sirius joked, but Harry didn’t find it funny, but he gave a weak smile back.

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “I’ll work on my repertoire of amnesia-related jokes then.”

“I look forward to it,” Harry said. “Do you want to get a wand next, or go home?” 

“Wand,” Sirius said almost immediately, and Harry wondered just what he remembered, deep in his brain. Subconscious, a voice sounding like Hermione reminded him.

“Alright,” Harry said. “Do you think you remember any spells?”

“I think I can figure out some,” Sirius said, his voice on the border of arrogant. 

“I believe in you,” Harry said, not caring how stupid he sounded. Sirius had always believed in him, it was only fair of him to return the same confidence.

Sirius was smiling at him, and drinking a coke and Harry felt so, so off-balance.


	2. Chapter 2

When Sirius had finished eating, Harry led them on the short walk back down Charing Cross Road to the Leaky Cauldron.

The sun was bright, but there was a slight chill in the air that promised autumn was truly on its way.

“It’s my favourite time of the year,” Harry told him. “Reminds me of going back to Hogwarts.”

Sirius grabbed his wrist. “Harry, I recognise that word!” 

The corner of Harry’s lips turned up in a smile, as if tugged by a hook. “Hogwarts?”

Sirius nodded. “Yeah, I know I’ve said it and heard it even though I couldn’t tell you what it means.”

“It’s our school,” Harry replied. “We were both in Gryffindor, it’s the first time I felt like I was at home and I think it might have been the same for you.”

“Right,” Sirius said, finally dropping Harry’s wrist. “Gryffindor,” Sirius muttered to himself underneath his breath.

They walked in silence the rest of the way down to Diagon Alley, Sirius trailing faithfully behind him. His face didn’t betray any wonder or shock at all the wizardry on display, magic must have always been in his mind and marrow.

Sirius stopped in front of the pet store, though. There was a litter of tiny kneazles on display in the window and the smallest one there perked up and started tapping at the glass, mewling at him.

“Can we go in?” he asked, his big gray eyes begging, reminding Harry very much of a dog.

“Of course, we can do whatever you want, Sirius,” Harry replied, swinging the door open for him.

Sirius winked at him. “You shouldn’t make those kind of promises to me, Harry.”

He felt a blush spreading over his face, and looked back at Sirius, but he only had eyes for the kittens. 

He had picked up the smallest one. It had black fur, with two bright green eyes.

“It’s you, as a kneazle,” Sirius joked, as the kitten playfully swatted at his hands. It was so tiny in Sirius’s big, warm hands.

“It likes you,” Harry observed. “Do you want to take him home?”

Sirius perked up. “Can I?”

Harry nodded. “You’ve always been good with animals,” he said, remembering how he had befriended Buckbeak and Crookshanks.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Sirius said. The kitten had now fallen asleep in his arms. “And I think I’ll name it Harry, as your twin.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You can’t name your kneazle after me, it’s weird.”

“James then, after your middle name.”

“Even weirder, trust me,” Harry said, rubbing at his eyes. “Your family likes to name things after the stars, can you think of any constellations?”

“How about Leo?” Sirius suggested. The kitten in question mewled at the name, and it was decided.

Harry bought it, a bunch of kneazle food, toys and a little carrier, and they continued down Diagon Alley toward the wandmaker.

“We’re here, Sirius,” Harry announced as he swung the door to Ollivander’s open. Sirius handed Harry the kneazle carrier, and flexed his wand hand, looking a little twitchy.

The man himself came out of the back of the shop and looked between Harry and Sirius, his thick eyebrows almost disappearing into his shock of white hair. “Which of you will be needing the wands, Misters Potter or Black?”

Sirius waved at him.

“Ah, Mr. Black, you purchased a very fine wand from me, 11 inches, Oak, sturdy, unicorn hair. I expect it served you very well in transfiguration work.”

“If you say so,” Sirius replied. 

Ollivander nodded, and then rummaged through stacks of wands before tossing one at Sirius.

Sirius picked it up and lit a weak Lumos, but shook his head.

“Not the one, then,” Ollivander said, snatching up the wand before giving him another to try, but that didn’t work well either, nor did the next one.

“Don’t worry,” Harry told Sirius. “I feel like I went through half the wands in the shop before I found mine.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said, reaching out to squeeze Harry’s shoulder. 

“Try this, I had the wood imported from America,” Ollivander said, placing another wand in his palm.

Sirius grinned and it transformed his whole face. He waved his hand and bright red sparklers exploded out of the tip, reminding Harry of bonfire night.

“This is it,” Sirius agreed. “What is it?”

“Twelve inches, unicorn hair, and flexible, coming from a blooming dogwood. It should prove very loyal to you and those you trust.”

A laugh escaped from Harry. Dogwood. “It suits you.”

“Well, I suppose he is named after the dog star,” Ollivander said. 

“That too,” Harry said, reaching into his rucksack to pay Ollivander for his work, and just like that, Sirius was the master of a wand again.

They headed back into the Alley, and Harry started to notice people staring at him from the shopfronts again. 

“Are you about ready to leave and take Leo home?” Harry asked.

“I think so.”

“Do you remember apparating?”

“I know what it is,” Sirius told him. Harry took that as a no.

“If you hold onto my arm, I can take us home. Brace yourself though, it’s not a pleasant feeling.”

“I can take it,” Sirius said, reaching out to grab Harry’s forearm.

Harry took a deep breath, and they arrived at the front hall of Grimmauld Place. It was brigh and clean and there were photos of people he loved on the walls instead of the portrait of Walburga Black, but the bones the place were the same. It was still the Black Family home for generations.

Harry looked over to Sirius, but his face didn’t give away much. He didn’t drop his arm though, kept holding onto it as if he needed the support to stay upright. 

“ _This _is your house, Harry?”__

__“It is now, yeah,” he replied, wanting to tell Sirius that he’d burn the whole place down to get him back, that he’d rather be in a poky bedsit without a knut to his name and have him back than have Grimmauld Place._ _

__Before Harry could get his thoughts together, Kreacher showed up, his eyes as a big as tennis balls. “Master returns! And with old Master, but so not old is he now, what has Master Harry done, why couldn’t he have come back with Regulus, what a good boy he was, instead of this ungrateful brat who broke my mistresses heart..”_ _

__Sirius glared at Kreacher. “Shut up,” he shouted, and to both Harry and Sirius’s surprise, Kreacher did, the ancient magic working its way through the house elf._ _

__“Sorry,” Sirius said to Harry, not the elf. “I don’t know why I did that…”_ _

__Harry was starting to get a headache. “I think I do…Maybe you remembered something.”_ _

__Sirius turned his glare from Kreacher to Harry. “How many times do I have to remind you that I don’t remember anything!” he shouted before running to the master staircase. Harry picked up his pace to follow behind him._ _

__“Heading to your room?” Harry asked, a little amused despite himself._ _

__Sirius paused, his hand on the bannister. “I know where it is! Harry, how do I know where it is?”_ _

__His voice sounded very young and a little frightened, and the amusement bled out of Harry._ _

__“You’ve been here before,” Harry said, in the understatement of the century. “Maybe your feet remember before your mind does.”_ _

__“That doesn’t make sense,” Sirius said, fiddling with his new wand, making sparks fly out the end of it._ _

__“I don’t know what to tell you Sirius, I’m an Auror, not a healer,” Harry replied, finally catching up with him._ _

__They walked up the flight of stairs and made the right turn to Sirius room, which he hadn’t been touched in the years since he died. It smelled of dust and disuse and Harry sneezed upon entering._ _

__“You’re sure that this is my room?” Sirius questioned, eyes scanning over the posters of muggle girls in bikinis._ _

__Harry nodded._ _

__“And you don’t stay in here?”_ _

__“My room is across the hall,” Harry told him._ _

__Sirius just raised his eyebrows and sat on the bed, releasing little Leo from his carrier. The kneazle scampered out and jumped on his new owner’s lap, curling out contently._ _

__“Leo looks happy,” Harry said, but Sirius just patted the side of the bed next to him and he sat down._ _

__“I might not have memories, but I’m not stupid,” Sirius told him._ _

__“You’re not,” Harry agreed._ _

__“I must have been gone for a while if my room is like this, unless I just stay in yours all the time?”_ _

__“You’ve been gone a while,” Harry replied, the warm weight of Sirius on the bed next to him reminding him that this is all real, not some sort of fever-dream._ _

__“How long exactly is ‘a while’?”_ _

__Harry looked down at the floor. “What did Luna tell you?”_ _

__Sirius waved his hand. “Blah blah a bit of fabric spit me out, did I know who I was, did I remember being in the veil, and then after pointing her wand at me a bit, she said let’s go get the most important person in your life and sneak you out of here.”_ _

__Harry felt a surge of love for Luna._ _

__“You’re not going to break my brain any more than it is already by telling me things, Harry” Sirius insisted._ _

__Harry stared at Sirius, who was looking at him with trust and easily-won affection or long-buried memories. He didn’t want to let him down or do this wrong._ _

__“Okay, I’ll guess. I’m thinking it’s been three years, since you’re 21 and I’m 18,” Sirius said. “I’ve been dead that long?”_ _

__“A bit longer, but your logic is good,” Harry replied._ _

__“You’re being very vague and mysterious, Harry Potter, and it is extremely bothersome. Just tell me, I can handle it.” Sirius said, folding his arms across his chest._ _

__“You’ve been gone for 5 years and three months, and I haven’t stopped missing you for even a single day,” Harry_ _

__“Oh,” Sirius replied, his bow-shaped lips opening wide. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“I’m the one who should be sorry,” Harry confessed._ _

__“Why? You didn’t kill me,” Sirius said confidently. “Did you? Buying me lunch and a kitten doesn’t seem like murderer activities, but what do I know.”_ _

__Harry choked out a laugh. “No, but it’s my fault you died.”_ _

__“Tell me about it,” Sirius commanded, his voice posher than Harry was used to hearing, like cut glass._ _

__“The dark wizard I killed," Harry said, his heart beating too-quickly. “He…sent me a vision that you were in danger, and I rushed off to rescue you. But it was a trap, you were safe, and you came to rescue me in the end, and you were sent into that veil and left me.”_ _

__Sirius reached out and flicked Harry in the forehead. “Yeah, that definitely does not sound like it’s your fault, mate.”_ _

__Harry rubbed at his eyes, and tried to even out his breathing, and Sirius gave him a panicked look._ _

__“Here, take Leo,” he said, placing the tiny kneazle on his lap. Harry’s fingers ran over his fur, and it gave a big purr and his breathing slowed down to a more normal place._ _

__“Thanks,” Harry said. “See if you feel the same way when you remember.”_ _

__“Am I a knob, Harry?”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__Sirius sighed. “Am I a tosser? A dickhead?”_ _

__“No!”_ _

__“Then I wouldn’t blame you for that, unless I was. And you’re saying I’m not, and you know me best, so that’s that.”_ _

__Harry had to give it to him, that was a particularly impressive bit of logic. “You’re alright, Sirius.”_ _

__“Ta,” Sirius replied. “Can you tell me more things about myself? I mean, if you wouldn’t mind.”_ _

__Harry wished desperately for a moment that Remus was alive, or his father. He felt like he knew the big things in his life but not the minutiae, his favourite colour or first kiss or what Quiddich team he followed. His time with Sirius was much too fleeting._ _

__“You’re very protective of the people you care about,” Harry said eventually. “Loyal---and brave. And smart. You’re an animagus. Or were, at least.”_ _

__“Really?” Sirius perked up. “What animal?”_ _

__“What do you think?”_ _

__Sirius looked down at Leo. “Not a cat.”_ _

__“No,” Harry said amused. “I think this is one of the things you have to figure out for yourself, I think the magic is probably still there, it’s part of you. Do you think you can transform?”_ _

__Sirius closed his eyes, and Harry felt a crackle of wild magic spark in the air. It was like Sirius’s magic was reaching out for him like vines, wrapping like tendrils around his heart._ _

__“You can do it, Padfoot,” Harry whispered, nudging a little magic back at him. Sirius smiled before starting the change, body making the journey from man to beast. Padfoot’s coat was thick and shiny and Harry couldn’t help but reach out and scratch behind his ears._ _

__“Well done,” Harry said, and Padfoot licked him on the cheek after the compliment. Harry wiped at his face, and wiped the drool on the duvet._ _

__“That’s disgusting,” Harry said, but he wasn’t truly bothered. The kitty was though, hiding behind Harry for a moment, before it gathered its courage to hiss at the dog._ _

__Padfoot just put his head down and let Leo sniff him and figure out that he was the same man who had picked him out from the store. Leo cuddled up to him then, no longer afraid._ _

__“Do you think you can turn back?”_ _

__Padfoot barked an affirmative._ _

__“Prove it,” Harry dared, and he ended up with a lapful of Sirius. He shoved him off, laughing._ _

__“You’re an animagus too, aren’t you?” Sirius asked, reaching out to ruffle Harry’s hair. “I feel like you should have antlers.”_ _

__“No,” Harry replied, his heart sinking. “You’re thinking about someone else.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely comments and encouragement in the last chapter, I really appreciated it!


	3. Chapter 3

Sirius grabbed his wrist. “I’ve gone and upset you, haven’t I?”

Harry swallowed, and shook off the touch. “I’m not upset, Sirius.”

“Your face just went like this,” Sirius said, making his gray eyes very big and sad looking, in a cartoonish gesture. 

“I doubt it was quite that bad,” Harry replied.

“It was probably worse,” Sirius said. “If I upset you, I’d prefer it to be on purpose, Harry. Tell me if I’m doing something wrong, seeing as that I’m an amnesiac and all.”

“I’ll tell you, Sirius. It’s just a bit complicated,” Harry said in lieu of explaining and then remembered all the times adults had failed to explain things to him because it was ‘complicated’. Sirius had never treated him like that. Sirius had spoken to him like he mattered, not like he was some kid.

This Sirius just sighed, and threw himself dramatically down on the bed. “Well, if you’re not going to explain what was the matter with thinking you’re a _deer_ , then the least you could do is entertain me. Do I have any adventure books or exploding snap?”

“You can remember exploding snap?” but not me, Harry didn’t say.

Sirius shrugged, and Harry pulled out his wand. 

“You know, you’re not entirely wrong with the deer thing… _Expecto Patronum_ ,” he said clearly, remembering how it felt to have Sirius-as-Padfoot see him off to school. The love he felt for him mixed with the worry about him being caught was so strong, it felt like yesterday.

Prongs came galloping out of Harry’s wand, and charged over toward Sirius, bowing before him.

“This is wonderful,” Sirius said, beaming at the Patronus. “You must be some wizard, Harry.”

Harry’s cheeks felt warm. “I’m okay.”

“Merlin, just take the compliment. I would. Or I think I would,” Sirius replied.

Harry rolled his eyes, but stiffened when he heard the floo roar to life on the ground floor. 

“Who is it?” Sirius asked, going straight for his wand. 

“I don’t know everything,” Harry replied. “But there’s only a few people who can floo straight here and I trust them all, so let’s go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do, Sirius,” Harry said, helping him to his feet. Sirius was cradling Leo with one hand and holding his wand with the other, and followed Harry back down to the parlour.

Hermione was brushing soot off of her robes, and looked up them. 

“Oh!” she said, looking between them, before rushing over to give Sirius a hug. “Welcome back,” she said, stepping back from him when Leo made a noise of protest from getting a bit squished in her bosom and her cloud of bushy hair.

“Hi Sirius,” she said. “And who is this little kitty?” 

“He’s called Leo. And you are?” 

“What a lovely name for a kitten. I’m Hermione, and I’m a friend of Harry’s,” Hermione said, smiling at him. “Luna found me, and explained the situation.”

“The ‘situation’ meaning me,” Sirius muttered.

“Precisely,” Hermione said, not put off at all by his sullen tone. “I’m happy to see you again, Sirius. You’re looking very well.”

“Was I not before?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t say that.”

Sirius snorted, and curled a protective hand around Leo.

“I know this must be very difficult for you,” Hermione said instead.

“You know that? Did you wake up naked in the ministry of magic without all your memories and get handed off to someone barely older than yourself? No offense, Harry,” Sirius said.

Harry shrugged, and Hermione replied. “No, Sirius. But I was once in a magical coma for months after being petrified by a basilisk and everyone looked older but I couldn’t remember it happening. I was 13.”

“I’m sorry.”

Hermione waved it off. “I understand strange magical happenings, at least a little bit. Harry does too. And we want to help you.”

“Alright,” Sirius agreed. “Have you found a way to shove my life back in my head?”

“Well, no,” Hermione said. “But we got you a private appointment at St. Mungos, and I’ve started researching ideas if that fails through. I’ve already taken out four books from the ministry’s library.”

Harry felt like he was back at Hogwarts for a minute. There was a mystery, Hermione went straight to the library. “Thanks,” he said, trying to put as much meaning into the one word as she could.

“Of course,” Hermione said, wrapping him in a hug. “I know what this must mean to you,” she whispered.

Harry hadn’t been hugged so much in months.

“Right,” Hermione said. “No time like the present then. Shall we go? It’s a private floo to Healer Rathbones Office. Do you know how to use the floo?”

Sirius nodded and watched as Hermione disappeared in a flash of flames. 

“Maybe we should leave Leo here,” Harry suggested, and Sirius put the cat down gingerly on a chair before heading back over to the fireplace. “After you.”

Sirius picked up floo powder and Harry followed him into St. Mungos, coughing smoke as he arrived in a marble floored office. It smelled like cleaning charms and disinfectant and Harry hated It here.

A stern older woman was staring at the three of them over the rims of her glasses.

“Good evening, I’m Healther Rathbone,” she said brusquely. “I assume you’re the patient?” she said, gesturing at Sirius.

He nodded. 

“And can you tell me what your symptoms are?”

“I feel fit as a hippogriff,” Sirius insisted. “I just don’t remember anything.”

“Okay,” she said, summoning a packet of cards from her desk. “Pick three.”

Sirius blinked at her, but did what he was told. 

“What did you pick?” she asked.

“Ace of spades, King of hearts and the joker,” he replied. 

“Lovely,” she responded, reshuffling the deck.

He looked over at Hermione, but she didn’t look as confused as he and Sirius did.

“Now, Mr. Black,” she stared, but she cut him off.

“Can you call me Sirius, please? Mr. Black sounds funny.”

“Not a problem, Sirius. Do you give me permission to use my wand to take an image of your brain?”

“As long as it stays where it is, inside my head, then it’s fine,” Sirius muttered, and she nodded, once the consent was given.

Healer Rathbone stood up from behind her desk, and started chanting, a warm red light emitting from her wand. After a few minutes of spellwork, a complete picture of a human brain appeared in front of them and she made little noises of approval.

“What is it?” Sirius said, staring at his own brain.

“It’s what looks like a perfectly healthy adult male brain,” she said. “Frontal lobe, parietal lobe, occipital lobe and your temporal lobe,” she said, pointing to each. “Now, do you remember what cards you drew?”

“Ace of spades, King of hearts and the joker,” he recited. 

“Ah,” she said, pointing to his temporal lobe. “Looks like you have the ability to form new memories and there’s no scar tissue or anything to suggest a physical problem.”

“I’m not faking!” Sirius said, rising to his feet.

“I am certain you are not,” she replied. “What would be the point of that? “

“Exactly,” he muttered. 

“So if it’s not a physical problem Healer, is it a psychological or a magical one? Or both?” Hermione asked, transfixed by the image of Sirius’s brain.

“That’s what I’m trying to determine, Miss Granger,” she replied, casting her wand over Sirius again. “You’re not suffering under any hexes, curses or jinxes, currently.”

“Thank Merlin for small mercies,” Sirius joked.

“There’s a solution I’m thinking of at the moment, but it might be…intrusive,” she suggested eventually.

“What is it? Will it hurt him?” Harry asked, worried.

“I can take a little pain,” Sirius insisted. “What is it?”

She sighed. “I’m sure Mr. Potter and Miss Granger know that there’s a spell that allows a caster inside the recesses of someone’s mind.”

“Legilmens,” Harry whispered, transported back to Fifth Year and Snape easily burrowing his way to his most private memories.

She nodded, and Sirius sat back down.

“I don’t want someone I don’t even know traipsing about in my head,” he protested.

“It is, of course, entirely up to you,” the Healer said, completely unbothered.

Sirius turned and looked at Harry. “Can you do it instead? I trust you.”

“Sirius, mind magic’s not what I’m best at,” Harry said, stalling.

“Think of it this way,” Sirius suggested. “You can’t mess me up more than I already am. What are you, afraid?”

“His personality’s intact,” Hermione muttered, and Sirius shot her a glare.

“What do you think, Healer?” Harry asked.

“Have you learned how to use the spell in your Auror training, Mr. Potter?”

Harry nodded. “I have, and I passed the module, but only just.”

She looked upwards, as if begging the heavens for strength. “And what were your instructor’s critiques, then?”

“Erm, she said that I lacked finesse and that it was like I was using a blasting spell instead of a cutting curse to find memories.”

“Oh, that’s fine then,” Healer Rathbones replied. “Since you’re not in search of a specific memory but rather unlocking the floodgates to all of them, as it were, I don’t think your…what was it, lack of finesse should be an issue.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Are you sure about this, Sirius?”

He nodded. “As nice as it is to have you buy me lunch and a kitten and look out for me…I’d like to know who I am, Harry.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m willing to try.”

Hermione smiled at him, encouragingly as Harry drew his wand. 

“Whenever you’re ready, we’ll be here,” the Healer said.

Harry nodded, and rested his forehead against Sirius’s. 

“Sorry, it works a little better with contact.”

“I don’t mind,” Sirius said, staring at the seam of his lips for a moment before looking back into his eyes. “Best be getting on with it, then.”

“Legilmens!” Harry shouted, and entered Sirius’s mind. It was surrounded by walls, the ones outside Hogwarts, the gate to Number 12 Grimmauld Place, and at the centre of it all was the veil, voices whispering behind it.

Acting on instinct, Harry shot a blasting curse at veil, and it cracked into a million little pieces. He blinked and he was back at Grimmauld Place.

A very tiny, very adorable Sirius—maybe five years old-- was sitting on a chair, hands magicked to his sides and mouth spelled shut.

Walburga was shouting at him and there was a clear indent of a handmark from a slap on his little face.

“You’re a wretched, filthy horrid boy, couldn’t you stay quiet while I had tea with your Aunt? You’ll stay here throughout supper and think about the appropriate way a pureblooded young wizard should behave.”

Sirius blinked back tears, face turning red with anger. He looked away from her and to a painting, which fell of the wall from his accidental magic.

“At least you’re not a squib, boy,” Walburga said, before leaving Sirius stuck to the chair.

Sirius seemed to notice Harry, and Harry ran over, and untied the magical bindings.

“It’s alright,” Harry said, wiping the tears and snot off of his face. “She’s gone now.”

“I just wanted to go outside and play,” Sirius said, folding his arms across his chest. 

“You can go outside whenever you like,” Harry promised him, ruffling his silky black hair. Merlin, he was a cute kid.

Sirius smiled at him, missing a few teeth, and the room changed. 

He was in Gryffindor Tower, he would recognise it anywhere. Sirius was playing exploding snap with his Dad, who was also eleven and very cute, though looking more well-fed than Harry did at this age.

James was actually a little chubby, his cheeks full with the fat of youth and he was laughing as the house of cards exploded, singeing his hands.

“Cheer up, Sirius,” James said. “She’ll have to get over your sorting eventually, won’t she?”

“You don’t know her, mate,” Sirius said, reshuffling the card deck with his wand. It was an impressive little spell for a first-year. 

“Teach me that!” James demanded, changing the subject, and Harry could tell Sirius was grateful.

“James looks just like you, you know,” Sirius said to Harry in a conspiratorial whisper, but James couldn’t see him. Only Sirius. 

“I know, Sirius,” Harry replied. “Except for the eyes.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at him, studying his face.

“You’re a very smart boy, Sirius. You’ll figure it out.”

“I am, aren’t I? Top of the class already. Except for potions, stupid Snivellus and Evans are ahead of me,” Sirius replied, and the room shifted, as well as the bones of Sirius’ face.

He was fifteen or sixteen, standing inside the shrieking shack with Remus, James and Peter as the sun start to set over the horizon.

“It’s not too late to get out,” Remus pleaded, shaking with fear and the beginnings of the change.

“Don’t be any more stupid than you can help, Moony. We’re here with you,” Sirius said, before shifting into the Padfoot. James and Peter did the same, and the giant antlers of the stag nudged Remus gently.

Remus laughed delightedly, running a hand down James’s head and then scratching behind Padfoot’s ears.

“This is a marvel,” Remus said. “Thank you.”

Padfoot barked at him, and Harry understood, they didn’t need the thanks. Remus transformed fully into the wolf and tussled with Sirius-the-dog before heading out into the night to play under the stars.

Harry ran behind them, and Padfoot stopped in front of him, barking happily.

“You’re a very clever dog,” Harry said. “Go on, keep up with Moony.”

The memory faded, and he was back at Hogwarts, but somewhere he’d never actually been before.

Sirius was in a broom cupboard with _Remus_ and Remus was kissing his way down his body, opening his belt buckle and dropping to his knees.

Harry felt flushed and a little turned on despite everything. Merlin, Sirius and Professor Lupin? Had they always been like this? How come they didn’t tell him? 

Sirius looked over at Harry and glared. “This one is private!”

“It’s your memories!” Harry shouted. “I don’t want to see Remus suck your cock.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius said, a little unkindly, but the room shifted again. He wasn’t at Hogwarts, he was standing outside the front door of a beautiful country home.

The door opened and Harry recognised the woman who answered it from the Mirror of Erised. It was his Grandmother, looking both regal and kind in her house robes.

“Why don’t you come in out of the cold, Sirius,” she said, wrapping him up in a hug and a warming charm. “James will be so happy to see you, and so I am,” she said.

Sirius was hurt, Harry noticed, and so did his grandmother. “That looks painful. Let me fix you up, darling,” she said, gesturing to the curse wounds on his back.

“It’s nothing,” he replied, trying to stand up straighter.

“You Gryffindor boys need to learn that being brave doesn’t mean not letting other people help you,” she muttered, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Besides the sooner I fix these curse wounds, the sooner you and Jamie can go flying, hmm?”

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter,” Sirius said, and she went to work, healing him and distracting him with stories about how James had injured himself as a child trying to fly too early or chasing around Fleamont in his potions office. She was very kind and so good with him.

“Looks like Potters are always looking out for me, hmm?” Sirius said to Harry.

“I’m glad they took you in,” Harry said. “You deserve someone to take care of you.”

“I’ll be seventeen in a few months,” Sirius said, waving him off. “But this is what a house should be like.”

Harry nodded, and watched James slide down the bannister, delighted to see his best friend at his home despite the awful circumstances that led to him moving in. Disowned and cursed, but Sirius had never looked happier.

Harry went to speak to him, but they were back at Hogwarts. It was the graduation ceremony and they were taking the boats back to the train platform.

Harry never had this experience, and he wished he did. 

Sirius was in a boat with Moony, James and Lily were sharing another one.

“Well, at least we know they make good looking children,” Sirius said, staring at his best mate and his girlfriend. 

“Thanks,” Harry said dully, watching his mother toss her head back and laugh at something James had said to her. James kissed her cheek and tucked a lock of red hair behind her ear and they were so young and in love and they didn’t know they just had a few years left. It broke his heart again.

“I think this is where it ends,” Sirius said, turning his head to get a final glimpse of Hogwarts.

“What?” Harry said. “School?”

“No,” Sirius said. “My memories. The boat’s not going any further, look,” he said, pointing to a shimmering drop off on the horizon. It was like clingfilm, cutting him off from everything else, it was hazy and dark past the edge.

“Okay,” Harry said. “We can get off here, don’t worry.”

“I’m not afraid,” Sirius insisted. 

“You’re very brave,” Harry replied, grabbing his hand. “Do you think you know who you are now?”

“I think you’ve seen enough,” Sirius said. And Harry nodded, and pulled at the magic entwining the together and with a push, shoved himself out of Sirius’s head.

He was back in the ward of St. Mungos, his forehead still touching Sirius’s, their hands wrapped together.

Sirius opened his eyes and kicked his chair back, staring at Harry. “Oh, Merlin,” he said. “Harry _James_ Potter.”

“That’s me,” he replied, feeling sick to his stomach.

“Where are your parents, Harry? Where are Lily and James?” Sirius begged, looking like a lost dog.

Harry felt so angry that he had to explain this to Sirius, the loss aching in a way it hadn’t for a very long time. “They’re gone.”

“And Moony and Peter?”

"I’m so sorry,” Harry said, reaching out to hug him, but Sirius grabbed his wand and disapparated with a loud crack.

“Well, that went well,” Healer Rathbone commented and Harry opened his mouth to shout at her, but she held up a hand in apology.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, looking at him with such sympathy in her gaze. “How much does he remember?”

“Up until he’s eighteen, I think,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. “He doesn’t know how bad it gets, but he’ll find out.”

“He’ll come back to you,” Hermione promised. 

“He’s eighteen, in possession of a wand and he’s clever, Hermione. He could be anywhere,” Harry protested, but he hoped In his heart that she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has commented, it means a lot. I'm glad the kitty is a big hit, at least.
> 
> Let me know if you're still enjoying it.
> 
>  
> 
> -J xx


	4. Chapter 4

“Where next, Harry?” Hermione asked, her face shining with determination. “Back to yours or Hogwarts, maybe? Do you think he’d go looking for Order members?”

Harry shook his head. “I think he might need some time to figure out this is real.”

“And it’s not like he’s a wanted fugitive or in any danger anymore,” Hermione mused aloud. 

“Yeah,” Harry said, dully, as they thanked the Healer and walked to the floo. 

“Do you want me to come back with you and keep you company? I can get Ron over and we’ll have dinner?” Hermione asked, tugging at her bushy hair.

Harry shook his head. “I’m going to go wait for him to come back.”

“Alright. But Ron and I are coming around tomorrow whether you like it or not,” Hermione said, and Harry felt somewhat cheered by her bossiness.

He flooed into Grimmauld place, casting a spell to see if anyone was there. It was just him. 

Kreacher appeared as Harry started pacing around the kitchen, making himself a cup of tea.

“Young Masters not with Master Harry?” 

“No, but he’ll be back,” Harry said, hoping he was right.

“The Black line shouldn’t die out,” Kreacher muttered. “Wrong Black, but he can still make more.”

Harry had forgiven Kreacher a long time ago for his role in Sirius’s death, but he felt fiercely angry in that moment. “I don’t want you to talk about him like that—or to him like that. He’s a wizard, not a stud horse.”

Kreacher glared at him.

“I know you don’t have good memories of each other, but wouldn’t Regulus want you to be kind to his big brother? All he has is me,” Harry said carefully, and it worked. 

Kreacher’s big eyes filled up with tears. “I’ll clean master’s room properly!”

“Thank you,” Harry said, and went up to his own bedroom in search of one of his most prized possessions. In his bookshelf, he took out the photo album Hagrid made for him after his first year at Hogwarts.

His father died at the same age he was now, and was even younger at his wedding. On the second page, Sirius was practically glowing with happiness standing next to James in his finest wedding robes, adjusting the collar of his tie. He looked almost like this Sirius, the one who had just came back to him, except in the Sirius in the photo knew exactly who he was and how the world worked and Harry could almost hear him laughing when he threw his head back.

This new Sirius didn’t have too much to joke about. Harry closed his photo album reverently after flipping through every last page, and went across the hall to Sirius’s room. He found little Leo under the bed, and scooped him up. The kitten mewled happily and looked behind him for Sirius.

“He’s not here right now, Leo, but I can get you dinner if you like,” Harry told it. It mewed in understanding, and Harry put out food and water for it, the simple task calming him down a little.

He went and collapsed on Sirius’s bed a few moments later. There was a faint line of stars patterned on the ceiling, and Harry spelled the lights off and saw the Orion Constellation lit up. He had never noticed it before, but he tried to avoid this room, the loss of his godfather still hurting like a raw wound even after all these years. 

He closed his eyes to the constellation, and breathed out, trying not to worry about where his teenage godfather was.

He knew spells to track Sirius, the room probably contained some of his hair and that would let the more advanced spells do their magic but Harry would let him take his time. 

His entire world had come crashing down away from him, he was entirely alone, and Harry could drag him home, but what would that do? Like Hermione said, he wasn’t in any danger, anyone who knew 18-year old Sirius well-enough to recognise him was either dead or not a threat. He didn’t think Professor McGonagall or Andromeda Tonks would start with unforgivables, anyways.

Oh Merlin, Teddy. Would that make Sirius his Uncle? First cousin once removed? Harry never knew much about the way family trees worked, he only grew up knowing he didn’t have one.

Hours later, Harry heard the sounds of shouting from downstairs.

“I’m home!” Sirius was yelling, and knocking things over by the sound of it. Harry rushed down the stairs, and whispered a Lumos to light up the hall.

Sirius was swaying on his feet, eyes red and bloodshot. A half-smoked cigarette was hanging between his lips and he had changed his clothes, he was in dragonhide leathers, an old white t-shirt and a blood-red bomber jacket. He looked like trouble, but extremely fit trouble. 

“Hey there,” Harry said gently, grabbing his arm, keeping him upright. He was surprised he hadn’t splinched himself, apparating as drunk as he looked and smelled.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked, putting out the cigarette with the tip of his wand.

Sirius barked a laugh, but it sounded brittle and false. “How do you think, mate?”

Harry nodded, and guided him toward the stairs. “Kreacher,” he said, summoning the elf. “Can you bring some water and toast up to Sirius’s room please?”

The elf appeared and nodded, and Sirius started laughing hysterically as they made their way to the bedroom.

“What’s funny?” 

“That evil little wanker is still alive and no one else is,” Sirius said after catching his breath.

“He’s not evil,” Harry protested.

Sirius glared at him. “If you are who you say you are, you’re a half-blood.”

“I am, yeah. What of it?”

Sirius sighed, a long-suffering sound. “Why is Kreacher even listening to you at all? Lily’s a muggle-born.”

“You left him and the house to me, and the two of us came to an understanding,” Harry said, wondering whether to tell him the whole story now or if he’d be too drunk to remember.

“That must mean my parents are dead then,” Sirius said casually.

“Yes, Sirius,” Harry said carefully.

“Well, at least the future isn’t all bad,” Sirius joked, brushing off his arm, and going to sit down on the bed. "I saw in the Daily Prophet that it's 2001."

"It is yeah," Harry replied, passing him the glass of water that Kreacher brought up.

Sirius took a sip, and kept looking at Harry like he couldn’t believe he was real. 

After a moment, Sirius put the glass down, reached in his jacket, and threw a bunch of photos at him. He picked up one, it was a photo of him and Sirius. Sirius was 20 maybe, and he was a few months old. His godfather was holding him up in the air like he was a quaffle and his mum was looking on nervously while his Dad laughed. Sirius looked at tiny him with such warmth and wonder in his eyes.

“Where did you find these?” Harry asked.

“I bought a one-bedroom flat up the road in Camden, James helped me pick it out over Easter hols,” Sirius explained. “It’s still there, along with all of my stuff, I guess I set up blood wards around the place, the area’s a bit dodgy. Or it was, seems fine now. There were a host of Ministry-grade alert spells around the entrance, but no Aurors came by.”

“I think we have better things to do,” Harry said, picking up the next photo. Sirius was feeding beer to a stag, Remus and Peter were laughing uproariously in the background. “Stag do. I get it.”

“It’s funny,” Sirius said. “Not that it’s happened yet, but it apparently has.”

“You were best man,” Harry said. “I have a few photos if you’d like to see.”

“Of course I’m best man,” Sirius muttered. “Who’s he gonna pick, Moony wouldn’t want the attention and Peter would make a mess of it.”

“Who would he have picked but you,” Harry said calmly, watching the stag lick Sirius’s face. 

“Stop talking to me like you’re Evans,” Sirius complained. 

“Sorry?”

“No you’re not, she always just says ‘Right’ or ‘Okay,’ or ‘Whatever you want to do, Sirius’ in that same stupid tone you just used until I change my mind about doing something. It’s annoying, but she learned a long time ago she can’t really talk me out of anything, so she just agrees with me until I change my mind,” Sirius complained.

“Whatever you say, Sirius,” Harry replied, with a grin at the end.

He got what he wanted, Sirius snorted out a laugh. “Ta, you’re alright.”

Leo had made himself known then, he crawled back out from behind a pillow and onto Sirius’s lap.

“Hello beautiful,” Sirius crooned, holding him gently. “How are you alive, Harry? What happened?”

Harry felt like Sirius had stabbed him in the heart. How many times had he asked himself the same question? The boy-who-lived, but why? His mother’s love and Voldemort’s horcrux, but why had he deserved to live when so many had died?

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry,” Sirius said, grabbing his face the same way he did when he was 13. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, slurring the words just a little. “I didn’t mean it like that, you’re twenty-one, you should be alive, and uh, thanks for taking care of Voldemort. That was the dark wizard you killed right, Grindlewald didn’t break out of prison and make another go of it or something?”

Harry laughed, a choked-off broken sound. “It was Voldemort, yeah. And you’re welcome.”

“Did he get me?” 

Harry shook his head. “It was, ehm, Bellatrix.”

“Stupid fucking bitch,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically on the bed. “Why is the ceiling spinning?”

“It’s not spinning, you’re more than a bit drunk mate,” Harry told him.

“And you’re sober with James’s face and he only looked like that after his parents died. They were the best,” Sirius said, poking him in the side.

“I believe you. They took you in didn’t they?” 

“Yeah, they did. I wouldn’t have made it this far without them, or Jamie, and they’re not here” Sirius replied.

“I know,” Harry said softly. “But I’m here, and you still have a Potter who is going to take care of you, alright?”

Sirius rubbed at his eyes with the back of his palms. “Pretty sure I’m the one who is supposed to take care of you, Harry James, I look like your fun uncle in those pictures.”

“I don’t have a fun uncle,” Harry grumbled. “But we can take care of each other.”

“Whatever you say, Harry,” Sirius replied, and yawned loudly.

“Get to sleep, I’ll get you some hangover potion in the morning.”

“I don’t want to sleep, I have so many questions,” Sirius said, reaching up to pull him down to his back. Harry let himself be pulled.

“And I’ll answer whatever you like, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Sirius said, and then closed his eyes. His breathing evened out after a few moments, and he started snoring. The cat was lying on his chest, and he looked so uncomfortable sleeping in his shoes and skintight leather.

Harry raised his wand to banish his trousers, but the retrieval spell only worked around half the time. So he sat up and took off Sirius’s boots and socks, before undoing his zipper and gently tugging his trousers off of his body. He sent them folded to the chair with a handy household spell he learned from Mrs. Weasley, and tucked a blanket around Sirius and Leo. Harry went up to leave, to go back to his room, but Sirius blinked his eyes open, not so asleep after all.

“Stay,” Sirius implored. “I don’t want to wake up in this awful house by myself.”

“Of course,” Harry said, lying down on top of the duvet next to him. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have made myself cry writing one of these scenes. Thanks to those of you who have enjoyed this story, it means a lot.
> 
> \--J


	5. Chapter 5

Sirius woke up with his head pounding. His mouth was dry and he had a queasy feeling in his stomach. 

He opened his eyes slowly to see messy black hair and a sleeping Potter in a chair across from him. He had woken up like more times than he could count. 

Sirius smiled at the easily familiarity, before he saw the differences. It wasn’t James, however much he looked like him. Harry was older, though didn’t look it with his face slack with sleep. 

And James had certainly never been allowed in fucking Grimmauld Place. He hated this house and this feeling of powerless he had ever since Harry broke into his brain and got his memories out. He just wanted his life back, he didn't want this one.

Part of him wanted to shake Harry awake, but a bigger part of him just wanted his best mate. Sirius always had the ideas but Prongs did a lot of the long-term planning. How was he supposed to be in this strange new world without him?

Sirius sighed, and crept out of the room, walking down the hall to the library, wand in hand. The library looked much the same, and he summoned Alaistair Lestrange’s Third Treatise on Death Magic, and turned to page 34. It was the spell that killed his namesake, Sirius Black the first, and he’d never been allowed to look at the instructions, though he knew the gist, more or less. It slowed down a wizard’s heart-rate to death, for a period of six minutes. If they stayed in the land of the dead for longer, they’d be there forever, they couldn’t come back, they’d be brain dead. 

It was a complicated spell. He had to cast a _tempus_ with a countdown that flashed brightly enough and was loud enough to wake the dead—literally—and put a stop to the beating of his own heart. It was powerful and dangerous magic, but he wasn’t afraid.

Tempus , Sirius shouted, creating a countdown clock that blazed golden on his own left palm.

He lay back down and did the temporary death spell, feeling his heart race drop, first slowly, then all of sudden until he opened his eyes and he was somewhere else entirely.

He was away from the horrors of Grimmauld and in the safety his favourite place. He was in the Gryffindor common room, and James was standing by the fire, waiting for him.

“Oi, Potter!” he shouted, and James ran over to him, grabbing him in a fierce hug.

“Hey, Padfoot,” he murmured, cupping his face in his hands to look at him. “Merlin, look at you! What did you do?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he replied.

“And you did all that complicated magic, stopping your own heart, just to see my pretty face, huh?” James joked, looking around the room. “I missed Hogwarts a bit, you know. Mostly getting to see you everyday.”

“I just left it,” Sirius replied. “I didn’t have enough time to miss it.”

“You didn’t just graduate though, not really,” James replied, and Sirius noticed a little scar on his jaw that wasn’t there previously.

“That’s from a scrape with a death eater, dying was painless though, don’t worry about it,” James said with an easy shrug.

Sirius felt his hand vibrate, and looked at it. 4 minutes left.

“I am worried, though mate. What happened, James? To you? To us?”

James tugged at his hair. “Everything went a bit tits-up, Padfoot. My son was born with a prophecy over his head saying he was the one who could defeat Voldemort, and you and I got betrayed by someone we trusted. I left Harry alone and you had a really hard time of it after I was gone, but we don’t have time to go into that, and I frankly don’t want to because it breaks my heart and it’s not sad here. Not most of the time.”

“Who betrayed us?” Sirius asked.

“Wormtail,” James said, voice too calm. Sirius wanted to hit him. Wormtail, he would never? How could he? But dead men told no lies.

“How are not angry?” Sirius shouted.

“I’m dead, mate. Things are different here. You can be angry for us, okay? But be happy too, when you go back, for me. Don’t let the rage consume you, let yourself be joyful too, alright?” James said, as casual as if he was discussing the weather.

“I could stay here, with you. Is Moony around too?”

“He is, though he said he wouldn’t see you because he was afraid he’d eat up your time on purpose. He still doesn’t trust himself, our Moony, not when it comes to you.”

Sirius’s heart hurt. “Who else is here?”

“Lily of course and my parents and oh, your brother, who is actually a bit of a hero, but ask Harry for that story instead of me.”

“Regulus? A hero? His spine is made of jelly. Why can’t you tell me?” Sirius whined.

“Because you’ve got 90 seconds till you’re brain-dead, and I can talk fast, but it’d ruin the tale,” James said, and Sirius looked down at his palm. Fuck.

“Like I said Prongs, I don’t have to go back, I can stay here with you,” Sirius offered and James shook his head.

“You got another chance. The war’s over, you can have a wonderful life Padfoot. And Harry can’t lose anyone else, he’s lost so much and he’s lost you twice already,” James said sadly. 

“Fine,” Sirius agreed, in his final minute in the afterlife. 

“You were the best friend I ever had, and I love you, Sirius, and there was never anything to forgive. Tell my son that his mum and I are so proud of him and that we want to see the two of you in a least a century, but no sooner, alright?” James said, and it sounded like goodbye.

Sirius nodded, not wanting to goodbye himself, and pointed his wand at his heart, muttering the countercurse. He woke up, his heart-pumping too fast, and opened his eyes.

Harry was standing over him, bright green eyes flashing with concern. “Your heart wasn’t beating! What happened?”

Sirius sat up, accepting the help Harry gave him. His body felt weak, and his hangover was back full-force. “Read the book,” he snapped, gesturing to the grimoire on the floor.

Harry summoned the book, and started to read, a furrow forming on his brow. “The first line here is a warning about an 80 per cent mortality rate, that is for those with the raw magical power to even complete the spell.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead, and I’ve got plenty of magic to spare,” Sirius grumbled. “Keep reading.”

Harry flipped him two fingers and kept on reading. He could see the Evans in him in that exasperated face he was making.

“Did it work?” 

Sirius nodded. 

“And?” Harry asked, sitting back on the floor next to him. Harry squeezed his arm, giving him comfort, even though Harry was clearly cross with him.

“And I saw your Dad and he said he and Lily are so proud of you and love you and that they want to see us in a hundred years and no earlier.”

Harry said nothing, a strange look crossing his face.

“I had questions, alright? I made the choice to do the spell,” Sirius spoke into the silence.

“And I told you I’d answer whatever you asked,” Harry snapped. “But you decided to nearly kill yourself instead.”

“I don’t want to die,” Sirius said, and found it to be true. “I just wanted to see my best friend.”

“I can understand that,” Harry said eventually. “Just don’t do that again.”

“I’m not a complete idiot, it’s nearly always fatal the second time, the living shouldn’t enter the realm of the dead as a general rule,” Sirius replied.

“Did it look like Kings Cross?”

“What?”

Harry leaned in toward him. “Where you saw my Dad? Did it look like Kings Cross?”

Sirius shook his head. “No, it was the common room. But it was just me and him.”

Harry nodded.

“Why do you want to know?” Sirius asked.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day,” Harry replied, clearly still angry.

“Okay, I’ll take you up on that,” Sirius responded, rubbing at his eyes and remembering something. “Regulus! James said he’d met with Regulus. He said you could tell me the story?”

“I’d be happy to tell you. Or you could just do some dangerous magic again and not ask me,” Harry replied.

Sirius rolled his eyes.

“It’s not funny,” Harry replied. “But your brother was a hero at the end.”

“Did we start talking again? Is that why? He hasn’t wanted much to do with his ‘blood-traitor brother’ since he started school,” Sirius asked.

“I uh, don’t think you ever did start talking again,” Harry said. “He betrayed Voldemort and lost his life for it though, and I bet you would have been so proud of him.”

“I didn’t know?”

Harry shook his head. “I found out after you died.”

“Right, that’s awful,” Sirius said, and for Merlin’s sake, was everything in this new world depressing? “Tell me something that’s not awful.”

“Voldemort’s dead, and every year, on your birthday, I make a donation from the Black Vaults to a fund for muggle-born education,” Harry said with a wry grin.

Sirius caught his expression and laughed so hard that his ribs hurt, shaking from the force of it. His stomach grumbled, and he looked down at his bare chest, unembarrassed.

“Come on, let’s go down and I’ll make you a fry-up,” Harry said, helping him to his feet. Sirius followed him to the kitchen, and watched as Harry started to pull eggs and bacon out of the cold cupboard.

Sirius watched him work, before he was distracted by an owl poking at the window. “You’ve got post, Harry.”

Harry opened it, but to his surprise, the large eagle owl deposited a letter in front of Sirius instead.

“Who do I know besides you that’s alive?” Sirius asked, poking at the letter with his wand.

“Andromeda I guess, but that’s not her owl and I don’t think Narcissa would write you,” Harry said, casting a charm over the letter. “It’s not cursed, you can open it.”

Sirius shrugged, and tore the paper open. In green bold letters it said, “Dead Things Should Stay Dead. The Betraying Blacks Should Stay Gone Forever.”

He showed it to Harry, whose face went hard with anger.

“Yeah, that is a bit shite,” Sirius said, making a motion to rip it in half, before Harry grabbed it out of his hands.

“Don’t destroy the evidence,” Harry said, magically sealing the envelope.

“I’m not afraid of someone who isn’t brave enough to threaten me in person,” Sirius said. “Whoever it is, we’ll deal with it.”

“Together?” Harry asked.

“Together,” Sirius agreed.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry looked over at Sirius, who had been hungover and near death in the past twenty-four hours. He still looked so carelessly handsome. 

Sirius was prodding at the cursed letter with his wand in a bored way, not seemed all that bothered that someone was trying to threaten him.

“Hey Padfoot?”

“Hm?” Sirius said, staring back at him, his mind seeming a million miles—or years away.

“Are you still hungry or has that letter put you off breakfast?” Harry asked, finishing scrambling their eggs.

“It would take a lot more than that to put me off food,” Sirius joked, and Harry plated them both up food, Harry taking the seat across from him.

He watched as Sirius took the first bite, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment with pleasure. 

“Well done,” Sirius said with his mouth full. “This is so good, thank you.”

“It’s just eggs,” Harry said, but the comment pleased him anyway, and he dug in, enjoying the comfortable silence between them.

“James was a good cook too,” Sirius offered, after he had finished his plate. 

“Really?”

Sirius nodded. “Mrs. Potter loves to cook and Jamie likes to eat, and she taught him so he wouldn’t have to wait on her if he wanted cakes or what-have-you.”

Harry nodded, and floated their plates over to the sink. He wondered what it was like to have a parent who would want to spend time with you. Harry took another deep breath and looked back at that stupid letter.

“Hey Sirius, I think I’m going to have to take this letter into the DMLE this morning, open a file on the threat and then I’d like to take the afternoon off to be with you, if that’s fine?” Harry asked.

“Go on and get work, I’ll try not to get killed in your absence,” Sirius joked, leaning back on the back legs of his chair.

Harry’s chest hurt. “That’s not funny.”

“I know,” Sirius said, in lieu of an apology. “I’m not up to my usual standard.”

Harry sighed. “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt you, Padfoot?”

To his surprise, Sirius leaned in and grinned, showing his teeth. “Are you Auror-ing me, Harry Potter? I think I like it. Go on, get my witness statement, sir.”

“Just try and answer the question, please” Harry replied, amused against his will.

“Oh yeah, sure, loads of people, ” Sirius replied. “Mother, Father, Reg—but they’re apparently dead. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, Rabastan and every other Lestrange for the Howler I sent back to that wedding invite. Voldemort—but he’s dead too. I don’t like the Rowles or Malfoys, and I think I got a good curse in toward Walden MacNair when we all got caught up in an attack on Hogsmeade. Oh, and Snivellus.”

“He’s dead too,” Harry said quietly.

“He’s a death eater, no need to sound so sad about it,” Sirius said after a pause.

“It’s a bit complicated, he saved my life,” Harry said, condensing his whole history with his old Professor into a too-short sentence.

“Did he really?” 

“He did. And more than once too, though he was never particularly nice about it,” Harry admitted. 

Sirius rapped his fingers on the table, breaking Harry free from his thoughts. “Go on, go find whatever bad guy is trying to scare me. I’ll find some way to entertain myself in your absence. I’ll have a cuddle with Leo, and then go outside and see for myself how Islington’s changed or something.”

“There’s a fake magic shop just off Upper street before the Highbury roundabout, run by muggles. You might find it funny,” Harry offered.

“Fake magic?” Sirius asked.

“Yeah, it’s run by muggles. They sell crystals and herbs and things, but they were accidentally selling cursed mirrors, so I had to go in there and fix it as one of my first jobs as a rookie,” Harry told him. “The shop assistant didn’t believe in magic, she kept on thinking her brother was out to prank her, even when the mirror kept talking back to her in her own voice.”

Sirius smirked. “So what did you tell her then, Auror Potter?”

“I just fixed the mirrors when she headed out on her lunchbreak, sorry to say I didn’t break the Statute for Rosie at Islington Apothecary and Magic,” Harry said.

“So that’ll be my goal this morning then,” Sirius joked. 

Harry smiled, and pulled a few twenty-pound notes out of his billfold and passed them to Sirius, along with a Gringotts key. “If you need anything, this is for you.”

Sirius just looked at it and tried to pass it back. “This key is to the Black Vault.”

“I know. You left it to me, but it’s yours,” Harry said, curling Sirius’s fingers over the key. “Just think of how furious your Mother would be if you spent your ancient inheritance on fake magic trinkets from a Muggle shop up the road.”

“She’s turning over in her grave,” Sirius agreed, looking down at their joined hands strangely, before pulling away.

"Oh, I nearly forgot, what with everything going on, but I have plans tonight,” Harry said, but Sirius cut him off before he could finish his thought..

“Plans? With a girlfriend? Boyfriend? I wouldn’t want to be in your way.” 

Harry shook his head. “You’re not in my way at all, and my plans are with my godson, and his grandmother, actually. I was going to ask if you would like to come for dinner.”

“It’s not like my social calendar is especially full, most of the people I know are dead,” Sirius replied. “I’ll come."

Harry took a deep breath. “You know these people. Or one of them, at least.”

Sirius motioned for him to go on. 

“My godson’s name is Teddy Lupin. His parents were Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks. His grandmother’s your cousin Andromeda. Teddy’s a Metamorphagus like his mum, he’s the sweetest little boy,” Harry said slowly, watching Sirius’s face.

“Remus has a child with my baby cousin?” Sirius asked, twirling his new wand in his fingers. His voice seemed deceptively casual.

“She was a fully-grown Auror at the time, but yeah,” Harry explained.

“Is little Lupin a werewolf?” 

“No, he’s not,” Harry said.

Sirius grinned. “I knew he wouldn’t be, Moony’s so worried about that. How old is Teddy?”

“He’s 3.”

“So after I’m dead then, when Teddy’s born,” Sirius mused.

“You’ve never met him, no,” Harry said. “And uh, Sirius. Don’t be cross with me, but you’re taking this all very well.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Would you prefer I stop the beating of my heart again to ask Remus just when we stopped shagging? He wouldn’t even talk to me last time, and him liking women too isn't news.”

“Of course I wouldn’t, stop mentioning that!” Harry all but shouted.

“Fine. It’s just a bit complicated in my head right now Harry. I’m fine, but I might not be later. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded.

“In the case, can you just be my friend, and not try and head-heal me, alright? I’ll be okay, and I do want to meet his boy. Kids like me.” Sirius said, looking very young.

“Sure. Friends I can do,” Harry replied. He got up, and on some impulse, pulled Sirius in close to him for a hug. Sirius melted into it, and Harry knew he had done the right thing.

He pulled away, but still felt so warm. “I’m off to the Ministry then? See you around 2? And we can take your motorbike to Andromeda’s?”

“I have a motorbike?” Sirius asked, beaming. “The future isn’t all bad. Can I drive it?”

“Do you know how?”

Sirius nodded, and Harry knew two things: that Sirius was lying but that he was going to let him do it anyway. 

He wanted to see Sirius smile like that again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful comments I got on the last chapter, lovelies. I'm back! x


	7. Chapter 7

After Harry put the letter against Sirius into evidence, he took a detour down to Wiltshire. He apparated to the edges of Malfoy Manor, the grand building looking imposing off in the distance.

He took a deep breath, and walked down the graveled steps to the main entrance, and knocked on the heavy golden ring on the door. It swung open for him, and a house elf greeted him warmly.

“Mistress Narcissa says that Auror Potter can meet her in the blue sitting room,” he squeaked and pointed him to the left.

Harry smiled his thanks, and walked down the twisting hallways, remembering his way to the room.

When he arrived, Mrs. Malfoy was sitting in her favourite velvet chair and had an array of teas and cakes laid out for him.

“Are you here on business, Auror Potter?” she asked sweetly, but he saw the steel beneath it.

“No,” Harry said. “I know the last thing you want is more trouble with the DMLE.”

Narcissa stared at him. “Have a seat then, Harry. You know you’re always welcome here after speaking up for us in the trials.”

He did take a seat, sinking into a luxurious velvet sofa, and at her urging, poured himself a cup of tea. “Thanks. But I’m not here for your hospitality. I’m here about Sirius.”

Her eyes, so like her cousin’s, gave away nothing. “Ah, yes, I heard some gossip that he may have made his way back to the land of the living somehow?”

“Who told you?” Harry grumbled, but she just shook her head. Gossip was a currency she traded well in.

“I expect you know much more about the situation than me,” Narcissi offered, shrugging one shoulder elegantly.

“It’s not that,” Harry said. “It’s just we’ve had a threat against Sirius’s life and I was wondering if you had any ideas about who might still be harbouring a grudge against him after all these years.”

Narcissa looked thoughtful. “Hmm. I’ll have a think for you now, but you should know Harry that my cousin and I were never particularly close. I’m a few years older than he was and a girl and a _Slytherin,_ as you well know, so our interests never aligned to form any deeper bonds than our family connections gave us.”

Harry sometimes hated the way Slytherins talked. She could have said that in half as many words. “I didn’t think you would have spoke much with Sirius except for when you had to, but you know more about pureblood gossip than anyone.”

“You don’t give me enough credit,” Narcissa said. “I know plenty of gossip about half-bloods too.”

Harry stifled a laugh, and Narcissa smiled at him.

“I know you must love your godfather, he loved your father much more than he ever cared for his family,” Narcissa said slowly. “But he made a lot of enemies by taking any vitriol sent his way and throwing it back ten-fold. He was never quiet with his opinions.”

“And Bellatrix was?” Harry snapped back.

Narcissa sighed. “Of course not. But we’re not talking about her or my other relatives. You wanted to talk about Sirius.”

“Right,” Harry said. “His enemies?”

“Many are dead,” Narcissa replied. “Like my sister and Thorfinn Rowle.”

“Why did Rowle hate him?” Harry asked.

“Sirius was engaged to be married to his sister, Cordelia,” Narcissa explained. “She was a notorious beauty from a young age, the contract was drafted before Sirius was even sorted.”

“I can see that going over well,” Harry replied dryly, covering up his shock. Engaged?

“Well, quite,” Narcissa replied. “He was polite and cordial to her until he ran away, he couldn’t be seen to be breaking the contract whilst under Auntie Walburga’s roof if he wanted to avoid the worst of her punishments, of course. But once he left the family, he told he that he was never interested and that she should find someone else. He wasn’t especially cruel to her, but allegedly broke her heart.”

Harry nodded. “And that’s worth death threats over? A broken engagement contracts made for children 25 years ago?”

“To some, perhaps,” she replied. “But Cordelia wasn’t heartbroken about that as much as she made out to be. She tried to flee the country with her secret muggleborn paramour a year later, but she wasn’t as successful as Andromeda was about it. She was caught out by her family and they shipped her off to the continent. She married one of the richest wizards in Switzerland, so the story’s ending isn’t all unhappy.”

“Did she love him?” Harry asked.

“I doubt it, he’s a good forty years her senior and no joy to look at,” Narcissa replied. “But she lives in a home even grander than ours, I shouldn’t think she has to see or touch him much.”

“Well, that’s awful,” Harry replied. “Can you think of anyone else still living who has a grudge out?”

“Not particularly, but I’ll try and write you if I do,” Narcissa said. “Was that all you wanted?”

Harry rose to his feet. “Yes, thank you.”

“Anytime,” she replied cordially. “But Harry?”

“Yes?”

“I would like to see my cousin at some point, have him meet Draco perhaps? Lucius wouldn’t have to be there. We have so little family left,” she said quietly.

“I can ask him,” Harry offered. Draco had mellowed these days, the three of them meeting up for quidditch wasn’t as impossible as it would have once seemed.

“That’s all I can ask,” Narcissa replied, and rose out of her chair to see him out. She leaned into kiss both his cheeks, and Harry apparated back out of Malfoy Manor and to Grimmauld Place.

Sirius was in the lounge playing with Leo. He seemed to have bought out the pet store in terms of toys. Leo was one spoiled little kneazle.

“Hey Harry,” Sirius said, waving at him. “Any luck on your Auror-ing?”

“Maybe,” Harry replied, sitting down next to him.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “You smell like a rich woman. Where were you?”

“Malfoy Manor,” Harry confessed.

“Ah, does old Lucy want to off me then?” Sirius asked, looking supremely unbothered.

Harry shook his head. “I was speaking to Narcissa to see what or who she might know.”

“Sounds terribly boring,” Sirius replied.

“It wasn’t,” Harry said. “I think she’s glad you’re back, actually.”

“Good for her,” Sirius replied.

"She's not all bad," Harry protested.

"If you say so," Sirius replied.

"I do," Harry said. "What did you get up to this afternoon?

“I got a toy for my new cousin, by the way. Remus’s son. It’s a dragon. Thought I could bribe him to like me," Sirius said.

“That’s really kind of you,” Harry said. “I’m sure he would have liked you anyways, you’re easy to like.”

Sirius batted his eyelashes. “Am I?”

Harry laughed and shoved him gently. “Ready to go then?”

“Might as well,” Sirius said. “You promised a motorbike?”

“I did, didn’t I?” Harry said. “It’s resized on my bedside table, I don’t use it much.”

“That’s a shame,” Sirius said, pouting.

“I guess I needed your good influence to ride it more,” Harry said. “Accio Sirius’s bike!”

The bike came floating into his hands, it was tiny, key-chain sized.

Sirius followed him outside, where he expanded it back to normal size under the privacy of a disillusionment charm.

“She’s beautiful!” Sirius whooped, running around the bike. “I love her.”

“She’s yours,” Harry said. “It’s charmed not to crash, so I’m happy to let you take the wheel and drive her. Get a feel for the clutch!”

“I have done it once or twice,” Sirius confessed, hopping on the bike. “It feels right. Get on!”

Harry hopped on behind him, and wrapped his arms around Sirius’s midsection. “She flies, too! Thought we could get up in the air.”

Sirius nodded. “Can you spell the directions to the bike?”

“Sure,” Harry said, and put the navigation charms on.

“Hold on to me,” Sirius said, and revved up the bike, and stopping a few times with the gears, took off, speeding out of Grimmauld Place and toward his cousin.

Harry couldn’t help by smile as they got up into the air. Sirius was warm against the cold air and something about holding him just felt right. A strange, pushed-down kind of lust bubbled back up inside him. He tried to push it back down. Sirius had to deal with his entire world disappearing, the last thing his godfather needed was his feelings.

Harry swallowed and tried not to look at the strong line of Sirius’s jaw, and the way his long, pale fingers curved around the handlebars.

They soon arrived at Andromeda’s house, and Sirius haphazardly parked the bike on the pavement, and Harry hopped off the bike after him.

He watched Sirius tense, his shoulders ramrod-straight, and he reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s going to be alright. You’ve ran with werewolves and escaped Death Eaters and your family to come join my father’s. This is just dinner. You have this.”

Sirius squeezed his hand back, and sighed, some of the tension leaving his body, and he purposefully walked toward the entrance and knocked on the door, only remembering to drop his hand after he knocked.

Andromeda swung the door open a few moments later, with a pink-haired Teddy by her side. He was jumping up and down with excitement, and Harry beamed at his godson, full of love.

“I can’t believe it, but it is you, Sirius,” Andromeda said, her face flashing through a myriad of emotions. “Hello, cousin. You’re looking very well.”

“You’re looking just like your mum!” Sirius said, clasping his hands over his mouth after.

Andromeda just laughed. “I do, don’t I? Luckily, she wasn’t hard on the eyes, just everything else.”

Sirius reached out first, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Do you remember? After you were gone, behind the veil, was there anything? Did you see them?” she whispered, but Harry heard it.

“I only remember being 18,” Sirius replied, shaking his head. “I wish I knew. I’m sorry.”

Andromeda pulled away, and shook her head. “It’s fine. Why don’t you two come on in, I know Teddy is excited to see Harry.”

Harry stepped inside, and picked up his little godson, who squealed with excitement and turned his hair jet-black and messy in response.

“I’m you!” Teddy shouted.

“Nah, you’re you Teddy,” Harry replied, ruffling his hair and setting him back on the ground. “I have someone I want you to meet!”

“Okay!” Teddy replied, looking over at Sirius.

“This is my friend, Sirius,” Harry said. “He’s also your cousin.”

Sirius crouched down to get to Teddy’s level and waved at him. “Hi, Teddy!” he said, and produced a tiny dragon toy from his pocket. He held out his wand and transfigured the size bigger until it was a full-size plushie. “I got you a present!’

Teddy gasped, and grabbed the dragon. “My favourite book Granny reads me has a dragon in it!”

“Do you like books?” Sirius asked him.

“I can’t read,” Teddy informed him, and Harry stifled a laugh. “But I will soon!”

“He does love that book,” Andromeda said, wiping at her eyes. “What do we say, Ted?”

“Thank you!” Teddy said, and walked over to hug Sirius. Sirius hugged him back, and let him cling to his leg as they walked over to the dining room.

Teddy sat between him and Sirius, and Andromeda was across from them, levitating plates of roast chicken, crispy potatoes and veg from the kitchen.

Harry could tell Sirius was doing his best to keep himself together and Andromeda too, her jaw was also tightly clenched and her face a beautiful blank slate.

“Have you given any thought to what you want to do? Now that you’re back?” Andromeda asked Sirius, after she plated their dinner.

“No veg!” Teddy shouted, interrupting, as she slid his plate over.

“Yes veg, or no dessert,” she replied, and Teddy frowned but didn’t protest any further.

“Sirius?” Andromeda asked, waiting for him to reply.

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll spend the entire Black vault on motorcycles and drink,” Sirius joked, but nobody found it funny.

“You don’t have to decide now and I’m not your mother,” Andromeda said.

“Thank Merlin for small mercies,” Sirius joked.

“But you’re so smart, cousin. You could truly do anything you wanted. Find new ways to incorporate transfiguration in healing. Shake up the wizengamot. Go and travel the world, get off this island for a bit. Nymphadora always wanted to go to see the magical Mayan ruins, she never got a chance to.”

“Remus loved the Mayan myths too,” Sirius said quietly. “I’ll think about it, I promise.”

“You could do anything you wanted,” Harry replied, not saying that he didn’t want Sirius to leave him. He had left him enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone still here? Sorry for the long delay before this chapter! Hope you're still enjoying it. I love my tricky, complicated Blacks and all of Harry's feelings.


	8. Chapter 8

They left Andromeda and Teddy's house a while later. It was past Teddy's bedtime as it was.

“Thanks for having us,” Harry said to Andromeda with a hug after they headed for the door.

“Of course,” Andromeda said.

“Come back soon!” Teddy begged, barreling full force into Harry’s leg.

“I promise I will,” Harry said, bending down to hug his godson back. “Will you say goodbye to your cousin Sirius?”

“Bye Sirius!” Teddy said with a wave.

“None of that waving,” Sirius said, and picked up Teddy, throwing him in the air gently, making him laugh with delight on the way down. “Goodbye Teddy Lupin! See you soon.”

Andromeda stood by the door with her hand over her heart. “Don’t scare me like that,” she joked, before hugging him goodbye.

She whispered something in Sirius’s ear, but he couldn’t hear what she said.

But he didn’t think he imagined the way Sirius’s eyes glistened when the door shut behind them.

They hopped back on the bike, but Harry had an idea. He didn’t want to go home and he knew Sirius wouldn’t want to either.

“It’s still early, want to grab a pint?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sirius said, smiling. “Soho then?”

“No, it can be a little too crowded,” Harry replied. “I know a nice pub just around the corner from the Heath though?”

“Sure,” Sirius said, and let Harry direct him down the windy streets of Hampstead and Highgate, speeding on the bike past all the Victorian houses and people out late walking their dogs to The Flask.

He parked the bike on the street opposite, and the two of them strolled in.

It was mostly locals and families and a few young couples out on dates, none of whom who had any idea who Harry Potter was, and he liked it that way.

A pretty brunette girl was working behind the bar. “What are you having then?”

Sirius shrugged, and looked at Harry. “You pick, you’re the only who’ll be paying.”

The barmaid laughed. “It’s like that, then? Good for you,” she said to Sirius with a wink.

Harry’s jaw dropped, and he wanted to correct her, but telling her that he and Sirius were just friends was far too incomplete of a word for everything he was to him.

“We’ll just have two pints of lager please,” Harry said instead.

She nodded, and Harry handed over the few quid in exchange for their drinks. They took them and walked back into the beer garden, sitting on a bench under the stars.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

Sirius took a sip, exposing the long column of his throat, and swallowed. “With what, the girl behind the bar thinking we’re together or that I watched Remus’s son push around carrots on a plate the same way he does?”

“The latter,” Harry said quietly. “I know you don’t care about what muggles we don’t know think about us.”

Sirius shrugged. “It’s just so strange. And Merlin knows I’m used to strange, I run around with a werewolf as a dog on full moons. But being around you doesn’t feel odd in the same way, even though you look just like James. It feels good, being around you. But Teddy? I don’t know, mate. It's just strange, knowing Remus has a kid and he's gone.”

Harry's heart hurt, but he was saved from trying to figure out what to say next when a dog ran up to the pair of them, a golden retriever, and Sirius scratched it behind the ears.

“Hello girl,” he said warmly. “You’re a beauty, aren’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the owner replied, and she ran up to grab her dog. “She’s normally quite well-behaved.”

“It’s fine,” Sirius said. “Don’t worry about it, I like dogs and they like me,” he said with a secret little grin at Harry.

“He might as well be one,” Harry joked to the woman, who just rolled her eyes good-naturedly and walked back to her table with her dog.

“But you like it,” Sirius replied, his stormy mood vanishing into good humour.

“Yeah, I do,” Harry joked. “Hey, have you considered animal healing? Or opening up a shop? All this Black gold does neither of us any good sitting in the vault.”

“I think I might like that,” Sirius replied. “I know I did well enough on the NEWTS for the healing courses.”

“I'm sure you did,” Harry said. “But we can figure out that later.”

Sirius smiled at him. “Cheers. You’re full of good ideas tonight, aren’t you Harry?”

Harry felt so warmed by his smile, he could barely feel the chill of the air outside. “I try,” he joked. 

Sirius leaned into him. “This pub is nice.”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Harry replied. Sirius’s thigh was nearly touching his. He wondered if Sirius had any idea the effect he had on him, but no, he couldn’t. He was just being friendly, Harry was like his family. So Harry finished his pint, and stood up.

“Come on, Sirius. Stop nursing your pint. The next one is on me.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows at the challenge, and emptied his glass and waved regally for Harry to go get more.

He came back with the next round of drinks, and they finished them together, joking and laughing, the tension between them pushed back under the surface.

It did feel good, it felt like he had known Sirius all his life, this Sirius, and in a way, he supposed he always had.

When the pub shut, the two of them stumbled out of it, and Sirius looked toward his bike.

“We’re too pissed to fly it,” Harry sad. “I’m pretty sure there’s a bus ahead that might get us to Islington.”

“Ooh, a bus?” Sirius said, genuinely excited. “You’ve been on one of those?”

“A few times, during undercover Auror work,” he explained.

Sirius smiled and followed him down the road to the bus stop.

The moon was bright, casting gorgeous shadows on Sirius’s pale, handsome face, and Harry felt a little drunk but mostly happy to be where he was, even if that was waiting for the 214 at midnight.

“How do you summon it without wands?” Sirius asked, looking at the empty road.

“Ah, you can’t,” Harry explained. “The bus will just come, or it won’t. Either way, we have to wait.”

Sirius looked less impressed, but glanced again ahead of him and behind them at the road and pub in the distance.

They were truly alone. He looked back at Harry, and leaned against the bus stop sign, curling his mouth at him in a lazy grin. His body was poised more like a cat than anything and the way he was leaning and the naughty curve of his lips screamed ‘sex’. His limbs were loose, but his gray eyes focused entirely on Harry. He had probably brought lesser men to their knees like this, and Sirius was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him.

But Harry couldn’t look away if he tried. The way that Sirius was staring at him was a challenge, as if come here if you’re not afraid, and Harry never let fear stop him. He stepped forward, and grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket, giving Sirius time to back away if he wanted. But Sirius just swallowed and looked down from Harry’s eyes to his lips.

He leaned in to kiss him, but felt the hairs on his arm stand up. They weren’t alone anymore. Sirius felt it too, his whole body tensed, and Harry turned and saw a cloaked man standing wand out, aiming at Sirius.

Harry shoved Sirius out of the way of the incoming blue-green spell-light, pushing him out of harm’s way, before grabbing his own wand and yelling STUPEFY.

The man dodged it, and Sirius was back on his feet, and quick to the draw his own, sending another stunner at the assailant.

“What do you want?” Sirius yelled at him, after he dodged another curse, but he was silent.

A moment after, Harry sent a volley of spellers, stunners, body-binds and even expelliarmus, but the man was fast and blocked them all, sending two binding curses their way instead. The focus of his spells was on Sirius and not him and Harry's anger felt as deep as the ocean. Nothing could take Sirius away. Not now. Not again. Harry fought back with everything he had.

Harry and Sirius worked together, fighting back to back, their shields holding strong.

Spell for spell, his curses and their counter-spells were getting more dangerous with every passing second, until the man finally gave up, disappearing without a word.

Their attacker had fled, leaving them alone on the street, with nothing except the cold night air and adrenaline.

Harry grabbed Sirius’s arm and apparated them back to the safety of Grimmauld Place in the span of a moment, only feeling a little woozy on the landing.

Sirius turned to look at him, and shoved him. “Never do that again!” he snarled.

“What?” Harry asked. The apparition was pretty clean.

“Don’t jump in front of me like that,” Sirius shouted. “You had no idea what that spell was, you just shoved me out of the way. You could have died!”

“I’ve fought worse battles and Sirius—I couldn’t do anything else,” Harry said, still holding onto his wand, his heart racing. "Not with you in danger."

“Yes you could,” Sirius argued. “Harry, people love you. Hermione, Luna, Teddy. They would miss you if you died.”

“I would miss you!” Harry shouted.

“But I’ve been dead,” Sirius pointed out. “The world kept spinning on.”

Harry shook his head, and grabbed Sirius’s shoulder, holding on tightly. “Not to me. Losing you was the worst day I can remember. Halloween 1981 was probably worse, but fuck, Sirius, I wanted to jump in the veil after you. I can’t lose you again. I can’t. I can’t,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.

“Okay,” Sirius said quietly, the fight draining out of him. “Then neither of us will die, not for a good long time, yeah?

“Deal,” Harry said, not taking his hand off of Sirius.

“Harry,” Sirius said, his expressions changing from anger to something more dangerous. “Before we were attacked, what were you going to do?”

“I was going to do what you wanted. You wanted me to kiss you, didn’t you?” Harry said, hoping he didn’t misread Sirius so badly.

Sirius groaned and closed the distance between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The pub and the bus route both exist and the author has been to/on both. And many other pubs in London.
> 
>  
> 
> Lots of love,  
> J.


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius kissed like he fought, and Harry couldn’t get enough of him, the way their bodies fit next to each other felt just right. But he wanted more. So Harry slipped Sirius’s soft leather jacket off his shoulders, letting it fall carelessly to the floor while Sirius moved his mouth to kiss down the long column of his neck. Harry tipped his head back and closed his eyes for a moment, lost in the feeling of his mouth on his skin.

“I should have known you’d be great at this,” Harry said, settling his hands on Sirius’s waist.

“You’re not half bad yourself, Potter,” Sirius replied. He put his hands under Harry’s shirt, touching the skin of the small of his back. His whole body felt hot from that little touch. His heart was beating too-fast, but he wasn't scared. Not of him.

Harry grinned, and tugged Sirius’s shirt up over his head, and stopped for a moment just to look at him, his pale chest and the dark hairs that led a little trail down his belly that were begging for him to reach out and touch. Sirius was so handsome.

“Having fun?” Sirius asked.

Harry nodded, not looking away for a moment.

“Good. Are you just going to stare at me all day, I was kind of hoping you’d touch me,” Sirius said, raising his right eyebrow.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Harry deadpanned, his eyes scanning up and down Sirius’s body. He was still wearing too many clothes.

“I vote touch me,” Sirius replied, the corners of his lips turning up. “Or alternatively, just an idea here, you could fuck me over my father’s favourite armchair.”

Harry was so more turned on than annoyed, but he had to ask. “Do you want _me_ to fuck you…or just fuck over your family by getting fucked by a half-blood in this old house?”

Sirius sighed. “Can’t it be both, Harry?”

“Of course,” he agreed, dropping a kiss on Sirius’s bare shoulder, some of his annoyance fading right away.

“I want _you_ ,” Sirius said, his hands gesturing wildly the way they always did when he was trying to explain himself. “But it’s a little thrilling to do this here, in this room where they sat, you don’t understand, Harry, your family loves you.”

Harry’s head hurt. “No they don’t!”

Sirius just stared at him.

“I’m sure Mum and Dad did, I know that to be true beyond a shadow of a doubt, my Mum loved me more than she loved being alive, but Sirius! The people I grew up with hated me. Hated my magic, hated everything about me. So I understand. Believe me,” Harry said, his voice getting louder.

“Hated you? Who? Who could have?” Sirius asked. “James’s dad is gone, but his Mum would have loved you and Lily had mostly good things to say about her parents.”

“I lived with my mother’s sister, and her husband,” Harry snapped.

Sirius’s jaw dropped. “Muggles?”

“Muggles,” Harry confirmed. “Everyone else is dead.”

“Well, fuck,” Sirius said, stumbling back, and sitting down in said armchair. “That’s bloody awful," he added, cradling his head in his hands.

“It is what it is, yeah,” Harry agreed.

"But I wasn't dead until a few years ago you said," Sirius said, his gray eyes sharp. "I know I would be pretty young still, but the letters in the flat say I'm your godfather. Why wasn't it me? I'd take care of you."

"You couldn't at the time, but it wasn't your fault," Harry said, not wanting to tell him the whole truth. "I don't blame you, alright?" he added, because he never did. How could he? Sirius was at Azkaban, and it probably made the Dursleys seem like a holiday camp.

 Merlin, he didn’t want to talk or think about this anymore, not with Sirius sitting across from him, his eyes so full of love and rage on his behalf. He’d seen Sirius angry so many times before, he recognised this look and he didn’t want to see it anymore. Not now. He couldn't do this anymore, go through the disaster that their lives became.

“Hey Sirius?” Harry asked impulsively.

“Yeah?” he muttered unhappily.

“I can still give you better memories of that stupid velvet armchair if you like? I know I’d like to,” Harry offered.

“What?” Sirius asked, mind having wandered elsewhere, but Harry wanted it back on him and not in the past.

Harry sunk to his knees in front of the chair. “Can I?” he asked, gesturing to the bulge in Sirius’s trousers, not wanting anything else in that moment but to see Sirius come undone.

“Please,” Sirius begged, and Harry undid his zipper and did his best to just focus on this. He concentrated on the slightly salty taste of Sirius’s skin, the moans he made when he licked his way down his shaft, how his mouth felt full and heavy when he fit his cock down as far as he could, and how his eyes went the stormy grey of winter when he came.

“There,” Harry said needlessly after. “Much more pleasant memories, I hope.”

Sirius grinned, and dropped to his knees and kissed him after, not concerned about the taste, and stuck his hand down Harry’s pants, touching him with just the right amount of pressure and rhythm, and in barely any time as well, he came as well, already so wound up from bringing Sirius his pleasure.

“That was pretty great,” Sirius said, half-collapsed on top of him.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, lazy and tired in his post-orgasm haze.

“Maybe we could do it again sometime,” Sirius asked, his voice deliberately nonchalant.

“I’d like that,” Harry replied. Sirius was grinning at him and he looked confident, but Harry could tell some of it was an act. “I can’t imagine ever having enough of you,” Harry added, too honest, too soon, but needing to say the words.

“Well, you’d be the first,” Sirius muttered. “I’ve been reliably informed that I’m ‘a bit much sometimes.’”

“Who said that?” Harry asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Sirius replied.

Harry shook his head. “No. But I don’t think you’re too much. Besides, who wants someone boring?”

“Not me,” Sirius said. “And you’re far from boring yourself, Harry Potter.”

“Exciting things just happen to me,” he joked, and Sirius smiled back at him, showing his teeth.

His life had been full of surprises, but this one, Sirius returned to him, whole and full of fire and love and desire, might be the best one yet.

And he wouldn't let anyone take this from him. Not again.


End file.
